


you're my living proof.

by redhoods



Series: kinktober 2019. [8]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, M/M, Married Couple, Married Sex, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 12:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21036233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: Awareness comes slow and hazy and it takes Felix several long seconds to realize what had woken him, the gentle scrape of stubble on his thighs, the press of lips to the sensitive skin. He exhales to the ceiling, stretches, digs his heel into Sylvain’s back, “I’m fairly certain I had pants on when I went to bed,” he says to the stone above him and to the generally Sylvain shaped lump under their blankets.There’s a quiet chuckle that he feels more than hears, a harder press of teeth against his skin.





	you're my living proof.

**Author's Note:**

> kinktober. day whatever. gentle.
> 
> anyways @pepsiprophecy posted [this (mostly sfw)](https://twitter.com/pepsiprophecy/status/1183849405377646595?s=20) older sylvix art and i blacked out and this happened.
> 
> felix is trans and i use feminine coded language for him 
> 
> title from i'll be by edwin mccain because like... *waves hands uselessly*

Awareness comes slow and hazy and it takes Felix several long seconds to realize what had woken him, the gentle scrape of stubble on his thighs, the press of lips to the sensitive skin. He exhales to the ceiling, stretches, digs his heel into Sylvain’s back, “I’m fairly certain I had pants on when I went to bed,” he says to the stone above him and to the generally Sylvain shaped lump under their blankets.

There’s a quiet chuckle that he feels more than hears, a harder press of teeth against his skin.

It makes him wonder how long Sylvain’s been awake, how long he’s been under the blankets probably suffocating. He pushes at them with his other foot, until Sylvain’s hand emerges and draws them back more, mess of red hair the first thing Felix sees.

The room is plenty warm without the blankets and he sighs again, content, tossing an arm over his face.

“Good morning,” Sylvain exhales across his cunt and Felix jerks a little. His voice is sleep rough, deep and rich, warm and only in these sorts of moments has Felix ever admitted that he’d listen to him talk for hours. There are far better things he could be doing with his mouth though and Felix digs his heel in a little.

Sylvain laughs, hitching one of his thighs over his broad shoulder, than the other, hands wrapped around them.

It means no real leverage, it means Sylvain plans on taking his sweet time, and Felix groans quietly at the mere thought of it, “Morning,” he breathes out.

The fingers on his thighs dig in, probably going to leave finger shaped bruises for Felix to find himself unconsciously touching for the rest of the day, and then Sylvain’s mouth is set against his thigh, instead of where he wants it. He worries the skin with his teeth and tongue, sucks on it, and the mark there is going to be spectacular. Felix keens quietly, reaches down with a hand to run his fingers through Sylvain’s hair, cup the back of his skull.

“Easy, love,” Sylvain says there, “we got time, I’m gonna take care of you.”

And he will. Saints, he will, Felix knows this like he knows the sky is blue and the grass is green and the freckles on Sylvain’s right shoulder form a constellation of a bear. Still, he tugs gently at Sylvain’s hair, “We have a counsel meeting at eleven.”

Sylvain doesn’t deign that with a verbal response, instead runs the tip of his tongue through his folds, teasing and light, flicks it over his clit, then presses in once he’s drawn a shaky moan out of Felix.

Felix slides his arm off his face, gets both hands in Sylvain’s hair, trying to ground himself as Sylvain licks into him, “‘Vain,” he pants out, moaning long and drawn out.

It makes Sylvain eases up, press a wet kiss to this thigh, “Okay, love?” He asks against the skin, starts rubbing his chin over it in a way that Felix knows he’ll end up with pink burn on the inside of his thigh, wonders if Sylvain’s plan is to have him squirming in front of everyone they know.

Decides he doesn’t care when Sylvain presses his mouth against him again, licking into him.

He kicks his heel against Sylvain’s back, “C’mon, ‘vain,” he pleads quietly, “want you in me.”

That gets his attention and Sylvain lifts his head, peers at him, mouth and chin shiny, “Sure?” He asks, squeezing his thighs.

“Yeah,” he drops his legs to the bed, reaches down to get his hands in Sylvain’s armpits and haul him up bodily, “want a bath after, but yeah, c’mon.”

Sylvain laughs, soft and rough, doesn’t really let himself be hauled up, so much as takes his sweet time kissing his way up, gentle nips and scrapes of stubble punctuating his movements, until they’re face to face, “Mornin’, sweetheart.”

Felix huffs at him, cups the back of his neck, draws him into a kiss as he hooks his legs around Sylvain’s hips. The kiss is slow and easy, gentle in the sort of way that took them years to get right, but they’ve been doing for ages now. He drags his fingers through Sylvain’s hair, runs them down his neck, across his shoulders, moans quiet against his mouth when Sylvain grinds down against him.

The kiss devolves as Sylvain continues to rub against him, the head of his cock bumping against his swollen clit until Felix digs his nails into his shoulders, grinds out a, “Sylvain.”

Then he’s pressing in, a slow, deep slide until their hips are flush.

“Fe,” Sylvain’s forehead presses into the pillow next to his head and Felix turns to kiss the side of his head, pets his fingers through his bedhead, “Fuck, Fe.”

He squeezes his legs around Sylvain’s, “Can’t handle it anymore, old man?” He asks teasingly, gently dragging his nails down Sylvain’s back, feels his hips hitch forward and groans quiet near his ear.

“Brat,” Sylvain says fondly, lifting up to press their foreheads together, doesn’t actually pull his hips back so much as he just grinds his hips forward, then starts rolling his hips in shallow thrusts. “Not too old to fuck you into this bed,” he adds.

Humming, Felix draws his hands back up, rubs his thumb along Sylvain’s scruffy jaw, “You won’t though,” he tells him, “you’re being all sappy this morning,” he adds, mock accusing.

It gets Sylvain moving though, long, deep thrusts that threaten to push Felix up the bed, except Sylvain braces down on his elbows, curls his arms under Felix holding him in place. And that’s nothing to tease about, Felix’s toes curl and he groans, feels Sylvain’s answering groan where their chests are pressed together.

“Love you,” Sylvain murmurs low and quiet.

Felix turns, catches his mouth in a brief kiss, “Love you too, ‘vain.” Then moans loud and high, caught off guard by the hand that fits between them, the thumb that rubs over his clit. “Fuck, cheater,” he says as his thighs quake.

Sylvain laughs, rubs harder, “Want to feel you, Fe, want to see you,” he says, low and quiet, gently knocking their foreheads together.

Orgasm is a slow building thing and it washes over him like a gentle wave, causes him to lock his legs around Sylvain, moan quiet as he squeezes his eyes shut. He’s distantly aware of Sylvain groaning above him, the few hard thrusts before he goes still as well.

Then Sylvain’s not inconsiderable weight slumps down against him and Felix huffs at him, slides a hand into his hair and tugs, moans quiet when Sylvain’s hips hitch in response, “Easy, big boy,” he teases, petting down Sylvain’s back.

“Mm, not my fault,” Sylvain mumbles against his collarbone, “you’ve conditioned me.”

Felix laughs, unlocking his legs, stretching then dropping them to the bed, “It’s not my fault you’re so easy for it.” He pushes a little at Sylvain’s shoulder, “Come on, bath.”

Sylvain sighs loudly where he is, before pushing up, looming over him briefly, “Beautiful,” he says, suddenly soft and fond again, dipping to press a kiss to Felix’s cheek, “I’ll wash your hair,” he offers as he finally pulls away.

“I like how you act as though you had a choice,” Felix says, pushing up onto his elbows to appreciate the view of Sylvain walking into their attached bathroom.

The water starts running shortly after that and Felix drops flat to the bed again, considering if he actually wants to move. Sylvain comes back before he’s made up his mind, head tilted as he grins, “Lazy,” he teases as Felix flaps a hand at him. He obligingly comes closer though and scoops Felix up against his chest.

Felix hums, kisses his shoulder, “You started this.”

“Worth it,” Sylvain says, sitting him on the edge of their tub.

“It was,” Felix agrees, dipping a foot into the water, adds, “you are.”

Sylvain kisses the top of his head, then steps into the tub, sinking down with his back against one of the sides, eyes dark as he lifts his gaze from Felix’s foot up, to his bruise marked thigh, exhales loudly, “Gorgeous.”

Slinging his other leg over the tub, he arches a brow at Sylvain, hums out a soft, fond, “Insatiable,” and turns, lets Sylvain’s hands on his hips guide him down until he’s sitting between Sylvain’s thighs, leaning back against his chest as their tub continues to fill with warm water.

“Happy anniversary,” Sylvain murmurs against the crown of his head, once the tub is full enough and he’s used his foot to turn the tap off.

“Sap,” Felix says quietly, turning his head to kiss his jaw, “happy anniversary.”

**Author's Note:**

> come cry w me about sylvix, @vowofenmity on twitter


End file.
